


The Inner Workings of Aaron Hotchner

by wildwordwomyn



Series: rounds_of_kink [1]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Community: rounds_of_kink, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Graphic Sex, Non-Graphic Violence, Sado-Masochism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-08
Updated: 2008-03-08
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:03:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildwordwomyn/pseuds/wildwordwomyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aaron Hotchner is always in control. Always. Until one night when he feels the need to give it up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Inner Workings of Aaron Hotchner

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hawk_dancing](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=hawk_dancing).



> Prompt:"I never wanted you to know."  
> Kink: Secrets revealed (could be embarassing, sexual or a perceived weakness)  
> LiveJournal Community: rounds_of_kink
> 
> I don't know if this is anything like what *hawk_dancing* had in mind but the story wrote itself so I hope I did the prompt justice. I didn't use the quote in the story but it's there between the lines. And there's not much in the way of sex in this story. For some reason the idea of Hotch willingly giving up control felt more mental and emotional to me than sexual.

In the beginning it is only that. A beginning. Haley overlooks it because of the kind of person Aaron is, the kind of career he has. She thinks of it as just a thing. Something to pretend doesn’t exist. If she ignores it it’ll go away. She’s a firm believer in ignorance. But for Aaron the longer he stays in the BAU the stronger the urge becomes until it’s not just a sexual kink. It steadily turns into a necessary part of Aaron’s life. And it’s one of the many parts she no longer wants to deal with. Not that he’s surprised. Haley is an amazing woman, but she’s used to living life a certain way, and when she married him she didn’t sign up for _that_.

“How’s Jack?” Morgan asks softly when he notices Hotch’s dazed look. His eyes are directed at his computer screen but Morgan can tell he’s not seeing it.

“Quiet.” Hotch answers, which doesn’t surprise Morgan in the least. The man is always on guard, always alert even when he’s not. “New environment. New people.”

“I’ll bet he misses you,” he continues. Hotch doesn’t talk about his personal life enough. He is an enigma even to his colleagues.

“Not enough.”

And that’s the end of it. Or so Morgan thinks. He goes back to his desk and opens a file on the Un Sub they’re currently tracking. Every once in a while his ebony head will lift a little to check on his boss. Not that he needs checking on. Except he does. And Morgan finds himself checking more and more often these days. Since Haley and Jack left Hotch has been looking a little less in control. It scares Morgan to see the man this way. If he was honest he’d admit that it also arouses this unexplainable need to be there when Hotch finally lets go, to witness, even cause the loss.

“Let’s go to a bar.” It’s late. Morgan refuses to look at the clock to see exactly how late. And he’s tired. So it’s not that the idea of drowning the depravities of the human mind in a little scotch is a bad one. What’s bad about it is who’s doing the asking. Or demanding.

“Hotch-”

“Come on. You can get sloppy drunk and sing karaoke and I promise not to laugh or take pictures.” He tries to crack a smile but when it shows itself it’s sad and slow.

“Alright, but as long as you don’t dance.” At that Morgan receives a bigger, better smile. Because every time the team goes to bars to unwind Garcia tries to get him to dance with her and every time Hotch turns her down.

At the bar they sit on hard stools and drink hard liquor, matching shot for shot, glass for glass. Another sign. Hotch doesn’t drink a lot. As in nursing one beer for two hours. But not tonight. Tonight he’s getting drunk and he can’t bring himself to care. After three hours Morgan is the more sober of the two so he gracefully pulls Hotch close by his side and guides him out of the bar into his car. He puts on Hotch’s seat belt and drives them to his apartment. There’s murmuring about going home but he’s in no condition to fight when Morgan pulls him out of the car and pushes him through the door. This is where Hotch sobers up and freezes. He has no idea how to act in Morgan’s space. Boss? Colleague? Friend? Stranger?

“You’re thinking too hard, Hotch. I can see smoke coming out of your ears.” He laughs when he says it so Hotch knows not to take offense, but it doesn’t change the fact that of all the people on his team, Morgan is the one most like him, and it makes him uneasy. Morgan being a man, a smart, kind, good, attractive man who could over-power him if he let him, makes him extremely uneasy. “…Come here,” he calls, going on instinct.

“What?” Hotch questions blankly. He’s by the front door still while Morgan’s leaning against the kitchen bar.

“Come here.” This time there’s an edge to his tone, making it a demand. Suddenly Hotch’s heart skips a beat. He instantly hardens. “Now.” When he does Morgan grins devilishly. Somehow he knows what the man needs and he wants to heal him in any way possible. He points down. Hotch drops to his knees without hesitation, waiting for the next command. “Undress me. But you’re not allowed to look. And you’re not allowed to stand.”

Aaron, otherwise known as Hotch, #2 behavioral profiler of the FBI, looks up once for just long enough to map out a plan, then attacks. He gets Morgan’s clothes off in record speed, not looking up again, not standing. They’re both amazed at this newfound talent. But there are other, more pressing matters to attend to. Morgan leans down and kisses him slowly, hungrily, putting all his pent-up desires for his boss into it. Aaron groans, his hands curling into fists so he won’t be tempted to touch himself without permission.

“What do you want, Aaron?” The voice is soft, but it’s clearly expecting a truthful answer.

“…To be slapped…pinched…bit…,” he murmurs, ashamed. “…To be made to lose all control.”

Morgan’s stunned. Over the years he’s forgotten about his past, about what kinds of things have been done to Aaron as a child. Things that would make him want to be hurt during sex as an adult. They’re talked rarely about their abuse to each other because each understands it too well. Each feels it too easily. He recovers quickly though. Aaron’s looking up into his eyes trustingly. Morgan realizes then that this is the most open he has ever seen him. He wants to get inside and stay awhile.

“Would you like to be taken? Or would you rather beg to give yourself up?” Hotch notes the words he uses. The deliberate way he uses them. Permission. Morgan is giving him permission to be submissive, and asking permission to be dominant. He sways a little on his knees, already slipping into his role.

“…Beg,” he whispers, his head lowering automatically.

“I like begging.” He does too. Never had a man do it before, but there’s a first time for everything. And Hotch is the one he’s willing and able to make an exception for. “Stand.”

Aaron stands up gingerly, his knees cracking. Morgan undresses him until he’s completely bare. He shivers, though not from cold. When Morgan sees this he wraps his arms around the older man, holding tight enough to show his strength. Aaron melts into the embrace despite his desire for pain. Morgan’s grip tightens more until he whimpers. And gets harder than a Louisville Slugger. He lets go to wrap a warm hand around his neck and pushes him toward the bedroom.

Another four hours pass as Morgan finds all the ways Aaron can be made to beg. Pinching his nipples until they grow swollen and sensitive. Biting his shoulder blades hard enough to leave a dental impression. Squeezing his dick so tight it turns an angry purple. Fisting him deep enough to draw out a high-pitched scream. He employs fingers, tongues, mouths, teeth, hands, fists, and some inanimate objects that shock and titillate Aaron’s publicly straight-laced sensibilities. In private, when all is said and done, all that is left of Aaron is a mass of quivering nerve endings and exquisite pleasure. Morgan is sweaty and out of breath. And they both have reached an understanding beyond anything else they have ever shared. And tonight, for once, it’s enough…


End file.
